


Your Lovely Blue Diamond Eyes

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Drink Wine, Spew Poetry [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Abuse of poetry, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Terrible Metaphors, and abuse of tech, honestly this is just a bunch of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Some people get belligerent when they drink. Some people get flirty. Some people, apparently, find their inner poet.In which Bond picks Q up from the pub after an evening spent drinking frustrations away.





	Your Lovely Blue Diamond Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [christinefromsherwood](https://christinefromsherwood.tumblr.com/), who sent me this prompt on Tumblr: I was wondering if you might like to write something in the vein of "when Q gets really drunk, he tends to write really bad poetry about Bond's eyes; 009 has just returned his mi6-issued tablet with an honest-to-god mace embedded in the screen, it's time to crack open that bottle of Merlot" ?
> 
> I did like to write it, as it happens ;) This was lots of fun to write, and hopefully it is fun to read!

Moneypenny is laughing, a little tipsy herself, but not nearly so much as Q must be, if she’s calling James.

“You should come collect your boy,” she’s saying through the giggles, “he’s reached the poetic stage.”

The pub isn’t far from MI6, and thus isn’t terribly far from the flat, and Bond is there to collect his wine-sodden lover in no time.

Q after a glass or two of wine is fun. He gets chatty and catty and is easy to goad into silly and lively arguments that end in bed as often as they end in laughter.

Q after many glasses of wine is _hilarious._

“James!” Q exclaims, unfolding himself from his seat with a fluidity at odds with the drunken flush of his cheeks and tossing his arms around Bond’s neck to plant a wetly affectionate kiss to his cheek. “You’re here!”

“I’m here,” Bond confirms, winding one arm around Q’s waist to keep him steady.

Grinning, Q presses himself warm and easy to Bond’s side, burying his nose in the crook of Bond’s neck. “You’re here,” he repeats, pleased.

Q after many glasses of wine is excitable and affectionate, sweet and pliable, if a little bit clingy.

“I was just telling Eve about your lovely blue diamond eyes.”

He’s also prone to composing terrible poetry.

“She told me,” Bond replies, glancing over at Moneypenny, who is smirking fondly into her glass.

“Oh, but now that you’re here, I have some real inspiration,” Q declares. “Where shall I start?”

“Let’s start at home,” Bond suggests, orienting them in the direction of the door and grabbing Q’s jacket with his free hand.

“Already? We were having a good time.” Q only pouts when alcohol has watered down his inhibitions. He’s pouting now.

Bond doesn’t resist the urge to kiss the look off of him, tasting the middling merlot Q prefers to get drunk on when he’s had a bad day. The kiss goes on for a long moment, Bond just teasing with the hint of his tongue, until Q is melting against him, thrumming and pleased.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” Bond says, throwing another glance at Moneypenny.

Moneypenny grins, sharp and glinting, and waves a careless, manicured hand at the pair of them. “Oh, don’t mind me, boys. Just waiting for a car.”

Q, unconcerned with Moneypenny’s presence and still humming from the kiss, leans up to murmur (for a certain value of the word; drunk Q doesn’t quite have the same volume control as sober Q) in Bond’s ear, “I’ll thank you in the car if it’s dark enough out there.”

Moneypenny nearly chokes on her wine and comes up laughing. Bond kisses Q’s cheek and squeezes his hip, but shakes his head “no.”

“Tempting, but we really should get you home,” Bond says, then turns to look at Moneypenny. “You have a ride?”

“They’re a few minutes out,” Moneypenny assures him. “Now get him out of here, before he starts waxing rhapsodic about your arse or something.”

Bond does just that, strapping a mostly compliant Q into the passenger seat of his car and heading for home.

The radio plays quietly between them, and Q hums softly along. Whatever had driven him to the pub in the first place is apparently not troubling him anymore.

“Have a nice time, then?” Bond asks.

“Mm,” Q agrees with a little smile. “Very nearly forgotten what that absolute fucklord did to his kit.”

Bond can’t help but laugh. “Just to be clear, to which fucklord are we referring?”

“Double-oh nine,” the syllables snap out of Q’s mouth like an insult in their own right. “Do you – do you know what he _did_ to his _kit?”_

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“He got it _smashed._ With a _mace.”_

“A mace. As in…”

“Bloody great spiky, bludgeon-y thing on a stick.” Q waves his arm about in the limited space of the car, as though he’s wielding the weapon in question.

“That’s… creative.”

“Fucking ridiculous is what it is! Where did that bastard find a mace to be attacked with? And why was it anywhere near his tablet and radio? Suspicious shit if you ask me,” Q grumps. “But then – _then,_ he actually brings me the pieces and says, “you can fix it, can’t you, Q?” Fucking– no, I _cannot!”_

Bond supposes he shouldn’t find it endearing, the way Q is ranting and swearing and waving his arms, but doesn’t really feel bad that he does anyway. He’s smiling a little as he parks in the garage beneath their building and helps Q out of the car.

“You should’ve seen it, just little bits of broken plastic and glass and circuits, my poor murdered tech all over the table,” Q whines. “You’ve been a nasty influence.”

“Me?” Bond plays innocent as he steers Q into the lift.

_“You._ You’re very lucky I like you so very much, or I’d be very cross about the whole thing.” Q leans into Bond’s side, swaying a little as the lift comes to a halt on their floor. “As it is, I am just very drunk.”

“Perhaps a bit,” Bond agrees.

Q hums again, waiting for Bond to unlock the door. “I am very drunk, and you are very pretty,” he says solemnly.

“Oh, are we back to poetry?” Bond asks, ushering Q into the flat.

“Very pretty. Eyes like glaciers. Or stained glass. Ice chips, but on fire,” Q insists.

“If you say so, darling,” Bond says, kissing Q back into compliance to chivy him through his bedtime routine.

They’ve just tucked themselves under the covers and Bond is reaching over to take Q’s glasses from him when Q declares, “twin forget-me-nots growing from the fertile garden of your face.”

Bond snorts, laughing so hard that he has to rest his head on Q’s shoulder and take a moment to breathe.

“Christ, Q,” he says when the mirth has subsided enough, “I think you missed your calling.”

“Clearly.” Q nods, satisfied, and flops back against the pillows, tugging on Bond until he follows.

The enthusiasm has faded to sleepiness, leaving Q loose and soft beside Bond, still mumbling snatches of absolutely terrible poetry.

“I think that I shall never see, a poem as lovely as James Bond’s eyes.” Q sighs, then adds, “Joyce Kilmer wrote that one.”

Bond hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that’s how it goes.”

“I improved it a little,” Q admits, as if he’s imparting a secret.

“Well it’s lovely,” Bond lies; what does it matter if it’s actually any good? It’s impossibly ridiculous and terribly sweet, and Bond will let Q go on if he wants to. “Allow me to thank you for it in the morning.”

“Hmm. Alright,” Q agrees, trailing off into a yawn.

He turns his head, presses lax lips to Bond’s temple, and is out like a light.

(Bond thanks him in the morning with gifts of aspirin and tea for his hangover. He’d actually been thinking about a nice blowjob when he’d offered, but this is nice, too.)

(Besides, they have a whole afternoon off for other sorts of thanks you’s.)

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/185366001438/soooo-hi-solar-i-might-have-stalked-your-my), if that's your thing

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Your Lovely Blue Diamond Eyes by SolarMorrigan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161748) by [christinefromsherwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood)




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